


and make it better

by sicsempertyrannis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby Jack Kline, Grieving Dean Winchester, Light Angst, this is set during the grieving widow arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sicsempertyrannis/pseuds/sicsempertyrannis
Summary: Awoken by Jack's cries, Dean sings the only song he can remember to calm down a newborn baby: Hey Jude.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, mentioned, well
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	and make it better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [faghalforc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faghalforc/gifts).



> I was in bed to go to sleep when I thought of this and my friend bullied me into writing it <3 thanks Gawain

The sound of crying from across the hall woke Dean up. He turned his head to his bedside table, the neon letters informing him that it had been less than an hour since he had laid down.

Goosebumps formed along his legs as he ventured towards the nursery, clad only in his boxers. Jack’s nursery, a hastily built concoction, was still bare bones even a month after his newfound presence in the Bunker. Paused in the doorway, Dean ran a hand through his hair, grimacing when his palm brushed against the tender flesh under his eyes. It had been much easier to take care of a baby when he had the energy of a 4-year-old, not when he was playing the part of the father who had just lost—

Dean couldn’t think about that.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled, moving from his perch. For a second, he considered flicking the light on, before deciding against it; it’d be easier for Jack to fall back asleep in the dark.

At the sound of his voice, Jack’s cries grew louder, as if he was sensing that there was someone to hear his pain. Dean leaned over the cradle and slipped a hand under Jack’s head as he lifted him into his arms. Normally, Jack liked this skin-to-skin contact, but it wasn’t calming him down. Dean mentally ran through the checklist of why Jack could be crying. He had fed him an hour ago, so he shouldn’t be hungry yet. Likewise, there was no smell coming from his recently changed diaper, so it couldn’t be that either.

The cries wouldn’t stop coming, piercing to his ears and bound to wake up Sam. Panicked, and tired, and grieving, Dean sang the first song that came to mind.

_Hey Jude, don’t make it bad_

_Take a sad song and make it better_

(Only two lines in and Jack had calmed down a bit, though his face was still fussy and red. Okay, Dean could work with that. He kept singing, voice rough from disuse.)

_Remember to let her into your heart_

_Then you can start to make it better_

Dean ran through the lyrics, letting them emerge from somewhere deep inside him. He hadn’t been able to listen to the song since Mary came back, unable to reconcile the two versions of her in his mind and unwilling to taint the memories he had of secretly listening to the song when dad was gone on hunts. Now she was gone too, lost in that other world.

It had been a month since Dean had slept for more than two hours at a time. There was a newborn baby to take care of, something new and small and entirely dependent on him for its survival. Dean had to bathe Jack and feed Jack and talk to Jack and he did it all by himself, shouldering the weight like Atlas. If he kept moving, then he wouldn’t have to think. If he didn’t have to think, then he wouldn’t be reminded of why he wasn’t letting himself sleep. Too afraid of nightmares with bright lights and ashen wings and an emptiness spread all around him.

He reached the last part of the song, the chorus that often played in the back of his mind.

_Hey Jude, don’t make it bad_

_Take a sad song and make it better_

Swaddled in darkness and unable to continue, Dean broke down. For what could have been hours the only sound that filled the room was his soft weeping with even Jack having quieted down in the face of this new emotion. Except, Dean thought, this wasn’t new for him. What Jack wanted—what Jack needed—was the very person Dean needed too.

Jack had been so threatening when Dean had first heard of him. The son of Satan, the harbinger of doom and every shitty thing that had happened in Dean’s life. Dean had fought and bled so Jack wouldn’t be born, and he had barely been able to contain that violent urge at the golden shine of Jack’s eyes in the cabin. But in the end, Jack was innocent and kind, only looking for comfort in a world that wanted to harm him.

With that information, Dean gripped Jack tighter and shouldered on to finish the song.

_Remember to let her into your heart_

_Then you can start to make it better_

Weakly, he sang along to the guitar part and the _na na nas_ , making all the noises and bouncing Jack gently. Jack babbled in his arms, reaching up towards Dean’s nose and struggling to hold it in his tiny hands.

“We’re going to have to cut your nails soon,” Dean said with a wet laugh. There was so much they hadn’t been able to scavenge from the cabin, basic baby supplies that you don’t even think of until the exact moment you need them. There would be car seats and teething rings and maybe even car keys and nose rings one day—who knew what kind of teen Jack would be. Dean would watch him grow and watch him fall and do everything in his power to protect him, all while wishing he had the one person who had started all this at his side.

Dean’s face was still wet, and so was Jack’s, though crying on both sides had stopped. He tucked Jack closer against his chest, closing his eyes and breathing him in.

“I know,” Dean whispered into Jack’s head. “I miss him too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm blacksailsnby on Tumblr! come find me there. also, please leave comments and kudos I thrive off of them


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